


The Morning After

by anonymousmadame2911



Series: The Blue Hippo and the Pink Pussycat [7]
Category: Chris Evans (actor) - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Fingering, Morning Cuddles, Morning Kisses, Morning Sex, Oral Sex, Rimming, Shameless Smut, Smut, Vibrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-23 15:29:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19153825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonymousmadame2911/pseuds/anonymousmadame2911
Summary: smut





	The Morning After

You woke up to the tickle of blond hair on your lips and the incessant ring of a phone. It wasn’t your phone. You recognized the ring tone as a generic one, but your friend knew to never call you. You tried to figure out what had happened last night. Unfortunately, you couldn’t blame it on alcohol. You did remember bringing home Chris Evans. You reached up to scratch the back of his head.  
“Hey,” you whispered, “you need to get your phone.”  
“Hm?”  
“Your phone. It won’t stop ringing and I need to go back to sleep.”  
“Umh.”  
He looked up at you with those old blue eyes. You ran your finger through the blond hair hanging across his forehead. He reached over and answered the phone while he was still on top of you. He hit decline while looking you dead in the eye. This fool.  
“Could be important,” you said as you tried to roll over to go back to sleep.  
“It’s not.”  
He wrapped his arm around you pulling your small frame against him. You felt his broad chest press against your back and his thick arm wrap around your hips. As a dancer, you were well aware of your form and figure and how it looked from every angle. You knew on your side that your belly would sag out. It was inevitable. It was gravity. It happened to everyone, but that didn’t mean that you wanted Chris Evans to put his hands on your belly sag. You interlaced your fingers with his and brought his hand further up to your chest. He pushed his hips against you and you felt his prominent boner on your back side.  
“You have to thaw out the turkey before you put it in the oven. Otherwise, you’ll burn it.”  
“What?”  
You said it slower a second time for him. Without foreplay and a condom, there was no way that thing was getting inside of you. You rolled over on to your back.  
“Listen, I know you have this impression of me. That I’m a burlesque dancer, a stripper…I get paid to take my clothes off for a living. You’re dead wrong. I choreograph all of my routines. I know what the customers like to see and that’s what keeps them coming back. Yes. Some of the girls give hand jobs in the champagne room. Some of them go home with the customers. I don’t. You’re gorgeous. But. You don’t get inside of me without foreplay…without touching me, kissing me, licking me, sweet-talkin’ me. You can’t just put it in me and expect that that’s what I’m gonna like.”  
After your tirade, you got up and took a shower. You were already awake now and it would take some time before you could go back to bed. He had some nerve. You came out of the bathroom and sat on the bed to put lotion on.  
“Uh…hey…listen. I wasn’t trying to stick it in you. I just wanted to pull you closer to me and I just happened to have morning wood.”  
“Sure. OK.”  
“You don’t believe me?”  
“I don’t know you well enough to know if you’re telling the truth or not.”  
He gave you a look. You couldn’t tell if it was angry, confused, frustrated, or a mix of all of them. But, boy, it was a look.  
“My apartment. My rules. You can use my toothbrush if you need to. There’s an extra towel on the rack. Soap and everything are in the shower.”  
You suddenly wished that you hadn’t been living in a studio. That there was another room to disappear into. It was definitely too cold to hide out on the balcony too. You went to the kitchen and started the kettle. He reappeared shortly after going into the bathroom.  
“Do you want oatmeal and coffee?”  
“Sure. Sounds good. Thanks. There’s no hot water in the shower.”  
You walked into the bathroom, turned the water all the way up to the highest heat, tickled the water a little until it felt hot, and left him in there. You returned to the boiling kettle and poured the hot water into your French press and two bowls of oatmeal. You left a cup of coffee and oatmeal for him on the counter. You grabbed your phone and checked your messages. One from Sasha moaning about her idiot coworker at her new job. A couple from Lucy telling you about her night out. You responded to both of them.  
You checked Facebook. Nothing new. Your friends from high school with pictures of their babies or their weddings or their latest vacations. You skipped over to Buzzfeed. You hated how Facebook could make you feel like nothing.  
“You ok?”  
“Yeah. I just made the mistake of looking at Facebook.”  
You pointed to the mug of coffee and the bowl of oatmeal.  
“Cool. Thanks. Yeah, social media is a bitch. One second you feel like you’re at the center of the world and the next you feel like your garbage.”  
You sipped your coffee, listening to him.  
“Just take it with a grain of salt. All those people aren’t as happy as they make out to be. Those are just brief glimpses into their lives. They take maybe 500 pictures but only post the best one out of them. You know how it is. Make yourself perfect before throwing it up on the internet. Don’t let it get to you.”  
“Easier said than done. Didn’t you just get a hand job at a strip club last night?”  
“Uh…yeah. I guess you should take my advice with a grain of salt too.”  
He came and sat down next to you on the bed.  
“Honestly, I’m more worried about this meeting with Louis than I am about Facebook. I have no leverage. I need someone to give me insider knowledge.”  
“Sure. What do you want to know?”  
“I want $10,000 with a royalty of 1% and I want to make my own costumes. I want 8 hour work days. I’m not feelin’ this 10 to 18 hour work days that you actors put in.”  
“Do you have an agent?”  
“We’re not all good-looking white boys with blond hair and blue eyes Chris.”  
“Then, get an agent.”  
“I’ve tried. No one wants to represent a dancer who hasn’t been a prima ballerina and certainly has no endorsements.”  
“When is the next meeting scheduled?”  
“I’ll check my emails, but I think it’s Thursday morning.”  
“Then go in and tell him what you want.”  
You sipped your coffee and thought about what he said. How were you going to muster up your courage? You got up and grabbed the French press. You poured more coffee into his cup. You put your bowl and cup in the sink and got back into bed.  
“God, you kept me up last night,” you giggled at him.  
“Me?! You--!”  
“Shhhhhhhhhhhhhh! The neighbor’s can hear your loud ass stomping over here and there. You are so loud!”  
He put his bowl down on the night table. He jumped on top of you and started tickling you. You were wiggling and giggling and squirming underneath him.  
“No! No! Stop!”  
“Say ‘Captain America rocks.’”  
“Flame on! Flame on!”  
“No you didn’t! No. You. Did. Not!”  
“Thor is the strongest Avenger.”  
This only made the tickling worse. It felt like an octopus tickling you. You couldn’t catch your breath, you were laughing so hard. Tears leaked out of the side of your eyes.  
“Do you give up?”  
“Listen…uh….wait…” you gasped, “I thought your best role was in A Wrinkle in Time.”  
You felt his strong fingers react. They attacked your sides. You almost felt a little bit of pee leak out.  
“Wait a minute. Wait. A. Minute. I heard you had a full frontal scene? In Outlaw King?”  
At this point, you were howling with laughter. You knew you were going to hear it from your neighbors. You might as well enjoy it.  
“You would like that, wouldn’t you? Get a sneak peak.”  
“What? I’ve practically already seen you naked. You have your shirt off in every movie that you do. Oh. My. God. That poor little towel in What’s My Number?”  
You tried to push him off of you. He wasn’t going anywhere. He quirked an eyebrow at you.  
“What’s my number?”  
You were confused.  
“I don’t know. What is your number?”  
“The movie is What’s YOUR number?”  
He tickled you again, causing you to squeal and thrash your legs.  
“No please! No! Please stop! I can’t breathe.”  
He stopped and looked down at you. For a second, you locked eyes. You hooked your finger into the collar of his shirt and pulled him an inch away from you lips.  
“You wish.”  
You pushed him off of you and walked to the sink. You started washing the dishes and drying them. He came up behind you and stood flush to your back.  
“You’re right. I do,” he whispered into your ear and placed a kiss underneath your earring.  
You cut off the water and turned around to face him. He had put his hands on either side of you, caging you into the sink.  
“Don’t you have anything to do today? Who was calling you this morning?”  
“That was my agent reminding me of my Buzzfeed interview, which is tomorrow. But I’m all clear for today.”  
“Hm. Interesting.”  
“What about you?”  
“First, I will jump your bones. Then, I will jump your bones and then for dinner, I will jump your bones.”  
You ran your fingers up his arms and pulled him down into a soft, easy kiss.  
“Is that ok with you?”  
“More than ok.”  
He kissed back with a fierce passion. You pulled away for a second.  
“You know, just because you’re in my apartment, that doesn’t make you obligated to do anything with me.”  
“Mmmmm,” he pouted, leaning in for the next kiss.  
You pulled away.  
“You can always say ‘no,’ if you want to.”  
“No, mmmm,” he leaned in again.  
“Oh? Was that a ‘no’?”  
“No. It uhg it was a yes. Yes. Mmmmm…yes. Give me some sugar.”  
He leaned down again and you met him with a smile. It was difficult to tell where he ended and you began. Your tongues teased each other. He pulled away to kiss down your neck, stopping only to nibble at your earlobe. You were done for. Being kissed on your neck was your kryptonite. You leaned into him, moaning and reaching under his shirt. Why had he put his clothes back on? All you wanted to do was touch his skin. You gently scratched at his lower back and pushed his shirt out of the way. He pulled it up and off, revealing his well-toned torso. He worked his way down from your ear lobe to the column of your neck to your nipple. You wished you could say “valley” or whatever those well-endowed girls said. Truth was you weren’t. You had a dancer’s body. You were a toothpick. But, at least you had two handfuls. You might be the president of the Itty Bitty Titty Committee, but you ain’t never heard any of your partners complain.  
“I have been dreaming of these since you did that routine with the water and the white bikini.”  
He pulled your tank top to the side and pushed you back against the counter. You scraped the back of his neck and head and pulled it into your chest. You wanted him. You wanted all of him. And you wanted all of him on you right now. You pulled away from him.  
“Let’s—” you gestured to the bed.  
You pulled him by the waist of his pants to the bed and pulled him down on top of you. You pulled your top off and he recommenced with sucking and nipping at your chocolate nipples. You popped the button on his pants and he shifted his hips. You pushed them as low as they could go.  
“Off.”  
He pushed them off and resumed kissing your nipples and up to your lips. He slipped his hands down the back of your shorts and gripped your ass. You reached your fingers down the edge of his boxer briefs, barely grazing the head of his dick. You pulled your fingers from his underwear. You pushed his shoulders back.  
“Wait a minute. I need to tell you something.”  
He grunted. You took that as a cue to continue.  
“I haven’t had sex in a few years, so you have to go slow. Ok?”  
“What?”  
“I haven’t had sex since 2016. Please be gentle.”  
“Oh, I can be gentle. Slow torture is my specialty.”  
He gave you a wicked smile and wiggled down to the edge of the bed. He hooked his fingers inside your shorts and you lifted your hips up. He pulled them off and threw them somewhere in your apartment. It was a studio. They couldn’t have gone far anyways. He pushed your legs open and crawled up to you. He gave you a couple of pecks on the lips.  
“Turn over.”  
“Turn over?”  
“Turn over.”  
He leaned back and rolled you over onto your stomach. He put his hands around your hips.  
“Up.”  
“Ah. You like it like that? Ass up, face down?”  
“Uh. No.”  
You’d poked your ass in the air and made yourself comfortable on a pillow before you felt the first lick. It made you jump out of your skin. He had started from the hood of your pussy and worked his way between your folds all the way to your back side. He slowly worked his tongue around your back entrance, thrusting into you.  
“Good thing…I just…took a shower,” you stuttered out.  
“Don’t talk.” He commanded.  
You relaxed into that tongue action. You began to squeeze your boob and lightly pinch your nipple. You moaned and pushed back into him.  
“Turn over. On your back.”  
You flopped on to your bed. He spread your legs and caressed you between your moist folds. He watched your face as you wiggled under him. He worked his way around your clit, building the heat in your belly. You felt the tension build as you tilted your hips into his fingers. He got off the bed and walked to between your legs. He spread them and dipped his head down. His tongue was the sensation that your clit needed. You rocked your hips on his tongue as he thrust it in and out of your entrance. The tip of his tongue played with your clit, flicking it back and forth. You lost all control over your body. You were pinching your nipple. Your hips were dancing to the beat of Chris’s tongue as it teased your clit. Your other hand curled into your bed sheets as you searched for leverage. All you wanted was an orgasm. It flooded all of your senses. Chris grabbed your hips to keep them still as he flicked his tongue faster and faster against your clit. The tension in your body broke as that feeling of well-being and relaxation swept through you.  
“How was that for gentle?”  
“Mmmmmhhhmmmm. Very good.”  
“Very good?! Just very good?!”  
“Well, it’s the first time. You’ll improve.”  
You wished you had a camera to catch the stunned expression on his face.  
“We’ll see about that.”  
His voice was muffled as he kissed your neck. You reached down to stroke his hard on. He grabbed your hand and pinned it by your head.  
“Oh no no no. I know how you operate. You have tricks. Sneaky tricks that work really well. Not yet.”  
“Chris, wait. The condoms are in the top drawer.”  
He leaned over and reached in. He pulled out your vibrator. You laughed.  
“Whoops. I have those too.”  
He switched it on high.  
“Oh. I am going to enjoy this.”  
“No. No! It’s too high. I’m too sensitive right now.”  
“Hmph.”  
He turned it off and threw it back into the drawer. He pulled out a condom and placed it on top of the end table.  
“Where were we?”  
“I believe here,” you tilted your neck to the side.  
“Nope.”  
He flipped you over on your belly again causing you to squeal, again. He kissed his way from your shoulder down your spine to your tail bone. He spread your cheeks and poked his tongue at your tight hole. He rubbed it with his thumb getting you to relax. He stood up and grabbed the vibrator from your night stand. He nestled it between your folds and pushed down on your lower back so your clit was flush with it. He slowly swirled his tongue around your back entrance as he put the vibrator on low. Your hips rocked against the vibrator and his tongue in perfect synchronicity. You enjoyed the slow torture. The sensations dulled all of your senses. You had turned off the outside world. Just the here and now existed. After some time, he turned the vibrator all the up to the highest setting and your hips responded in kind. They rocked back and forth. Chris attempted to hold your hips in place but that was a foolish mistake. You weren’t in control. Your body wanted that orgasm and would get it. Your toes curled. Your thighs clenched around the vibrator and your butt cheeks clenched. Chris worked the vibrator through your folds and placed it flush against your clit again until that explosion flooded your body. You twitched and convulsed in the aftermath of the second orgasm, push the still buzzing vibrator away from you. He kissed his way up past your belly button, your rib cage, and landed a few on your shoulder. You looked over to him.  
“Is this what you plan on doing today?”  
“You? Yeah.”


End file.
